The Japanese team erupted with cheers and excitement as they watched the ball fly into the stands. Even coach Takashi pumped his fist in triumph, showing a rare sign of emotion.
As Ken began his victory lap around the bases, his attention turned to his mother who was sitting in the stands. Yet instead of cheering, her hand was over her mouth as she cried tears of joy.
Ken felt a little embarrassed, but he waved at her, wanting to include her in this moment.
‘I’ll have to make sure I spend some time with her today.’ He thought, a smile appearing on his face.
As he was rounding the bases, he saw the dejected expressions on the Cuban player’s faces, yet he didn’t rub in his victory. They had been a tough opponent and he respected them.
He turned his attention to Hiroki who had just stepped onto home plate, only to see the rest of his team waiting for him with excited expressions on their face.
‘What the heck!?’
Aki was at the front, his lips puckered as if he was going to kiss him the moment he came close enough.
The sight was almost enough for him to want to turn in the opposite direction. But he needed to step onto home plate otherwise the game wouldn’t end.
Ken’s face morphed, turning serious. Taking a page out of Makoto’s book, once he got close enough, he sent a swooping uppercut into the stomach of Aki before stepping onto home plate.
“OOOOOOF!”
Aki bent over from the pain, feeling his lungs deflate from the impact. Yet no one paid attention to him, showering Ken with anything from high fives to slaps on the top of his head.
Yet the celebration soon turned uncomfortable as everyone was too close to each other. Soon enough, people were getting their toes stepped on among other things.
“AY! Who twisted my nipple!?”
“Hee hee~”
“Riku! I know that was you.”
“Nuh uh~”
Ken felt the atmosphere turn weird so he quickly tried his best to get out of the mix of bodies. He didn’t want another flatulence protocol situation to happen. He could already imagine the echo in the arena afterwards.
“Ken! You did it!”
Chris came swooping in from the side and placed his hands on top of his shoulders, his eyes filled with immense pride.
“Of course coach” Ken replied with a grin.
“Alright alright, the next game is due to start soon. Please gather your things and leave the field.” Despite the fairy tale ending, the plate umpire alerted the Japanese team, trying to move them along.
This was the problem with tournaments like the world cup and even Koshien. Everything was on a tight schedule which meant the teams needed to pack up almost immediately after the game was over.
“Ah, yes thank you umpire.” Chris responded.
“Everyone line up!” He shouted in the next moment.
The Japanese team did as they were told, lining up and facing the Cuban team who was in the midst of returning to the dugout.
“Bow!”
“Thank you for the game!”
The group who were still bummed from the loss, received the bow and felt a little awkward. Though this thing was commonplace in Japan, foreign teams would barely even shake hands let alone bow to each other.
Despite being downcast from the loss, Jorge moved his large body towards the Japanese team. He stood in front of Ken who was a little shorter than him.
“What? Does he want to fight?” Aki said, squaring up. Yet upon closer inspection he was half-hiding behind Kuro.
Ken didn’t feel any malice from Jorge, so he stood his ground. It felt a little odd having to look up to another person that wasn’t his father.
The two stood apart in silence for a little while, creating a tense atmosphere.
Yet in the next moment, Jorge smiled and held his hand out.
“Let’s fight again in the Super Round.”
Ken grinned, grasping the large hand presented in front of him. He could feel the callouses on the rough hand of Jorge, evidence of how hard he worked to get where he was.
“I’ll see you there.” Ken said simply.
After that, the big guy returned to his dugout, allowing the Japanese team to heave a sigh of relief.
“Alright let’s pack up.” Chris said, gathering the team.
The Japanese team were about to leave when they were approached by an American man dressed in a suit.
“Sorry, could I please grab a word with one of your players?” The man asked Chris. He spoke rather slowly, but he was polite.
“Sure, who did you need?”
The man seemed a little surprised that Chris answered in fluent English, but he breathed out a quick sigh of relief afterwards.
“Can we speak to Ken? It’s for an interview we’ll be placing on the World Cup page.”
“Ken, this gentleman wants to interview you.” Chris said, in Japanese so the rest of the team could understand.
“Oooooh! Our Kenny is now a bigshot.” Masayuki said with a cheeky grin.
He was the biggest contributor to Ken’s nickname being spread amongst the team, always quick to call him so in front of everyone.
“Good luck bro.” Daichi said, smacking him on the back.
“Hurry up the rest of you.” Chris shouted, spurring them to get back into the dugout and pack up.
“Yes sir!”
Ken followed the American man who took him over to the side of the field where a camera was set up. He stood in front and gestured for Ken to stand next to him.
“Ah crap! I forgot a translator.” The reporter cursed, quickly looking around behind him.
“Oh, I speak English sir.” Ken said, a little amused at his antics.
“Oh… Fantastic!”
“Sorry, my name is Brandon Anderson. Sorry for not introducing myself earlier.” He felt a little guilty since he had assumed the guy only spoke Japanese.
Ken nodded, though he wasn’t offended. “Ken Takagi, nice to meet you.”
